by Jamie Magee
Stella took my hand and led me back up the narrow staircase that Tim had carried me down earlier. At the top of the stairs was broken glass, pieces of wood, and debris everywhere. We weaved our way through to the doorway, then Stella stopped, looked back at Tim, and pleaded with her eyes.
Tim looked down at his feet. “I won’t tell anyone, Stella...good luck,” he said.
Stella nodded her head and looked at me, then led me out. I could feel her doubt; she didn’t believe him. I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew he was telling the truth and had no intent of telling anyone whatever Stella wanted him to keep private.
“Stella...he was telling the truth,” I whispered.
“Are you starting to remember now?” she asked, peeking with excitement.
I turned my head from side to side. “I just know,” I whispered.
Stella looked at me and said, “Well, I hope your right; we don’t need any more problems.”
The streets were covered with broken glass and paper, and it was gray, gloomy, and very damp.
“Willow...I have to wake up now. I’m going to get the others and find you...don’t be scared...I love you,” the man’s voice in my head said.
I stopped in my tracks. I could feel love, compassion, and fear, and all at once on my lips it felt as if someone were softly kissing me. A warm sensation ran through me, and for a brief second I had no pain...the dizziness was the kind that someone would enjoy. I stood frozen in place, staring blankly, then the feeling left me. “Wait...who are you?..where are you?” I said loudly.
Stella abruptly pulled me into a dark alley; her fear was out of control. “Do you have a death wish?” she said in a harsh whisper. “You cannot talk that loud - ever,” she said, staring at me for understanding. I gave it by nodding. “Are you hearing voices again?” she asked. I nodded. “Don’t answer them...don’t tell anyone...they’ll kill us both.”
I could tell she believed what she was saying - which made it all the more frightening.
Stella walked to the edge of the alley and looked in both directions, then waved me to her side. I went, not sure how to act anymore; I was so alone and afraid. We walked for two blocks, then in the distance I could see what was left of a three-story building. The roof was gone, and so was most of the top floor. Stella’s emotion was near devastation at the sight of it. I was starting to think that this building was our home.
People were digging in the rubble for belongings, and Stella searched the ground for anything that belonged to us. I wanted to help her, but it all looked the same to me; instead, I stood out of the way, watching all the people. It was strange; some of them I could feel, and others, nothing. I wasn’t sure if I should or should not feel them; either way, it was frustrating. An older woman walked over to Stella and handed her a bag, then pointed up the street. Stella took the bag and walked to where I stood. As she reached me, a young boy came to my side. Stella looked down at him and asked, “Robert, did you find anything of ours?”
I could feel this Robert kid; he was feeling excited on the inside, but on the outside he seemed solemn. I knew he was hiding something, and he had whatever it was inside his coat.
Robert looked at Stella and said, “Sorry, Stella. I didn’t find anything - but if I do, I’ll bring it to the shelter for you.”
Stella looked down and went to walk away, but I reached for her arm to stop her. Staring intently at the little boy, I leaned forward, and his excitement faded into dread. “Are you certain you don’t have anything of ours?” I asked.
He looked down, ashamed, searching for a way not to look guilty.
“Maybe in the right front pocket of your coat,” I said in a low tone to him. Stella looked at me, then down at the boy; she was angry, and for a moment I thought I’d done something wrong again.
Robert reached in his pocket and pulled out a small book with a leather binder, then handed it to Stella and ran off in another direction. Stella looked over at me. “Maybe I should have hit you in the head a long time ago,” she whispered. I knew she was joking, though, and very much bothered by my behavior.
One of the ones I could not feel, a man, saw our exchange with Robert. He seemed to be in charge of herding us in one direction, and Stella looked in his direction, then bowed her head slightly and pulled me down the street; that man had made her nervous, which in turn was scaring me. No matter what I did, it seemed to be the wrong thing.
A block later, we stepped into one of the buildings that lined the streets. An old man with a gray beard and dark eyes was behind the counter. He had compassion for us, and he started to shake his head as we approached. “Stella, I can’t give her anything else for the pain. Beyond that, you’ve already used both yours and her medical ration for this week.”
Stella walked to the counter, shaking her head. “It’s not that; she hit her head in the storm. She doesn’t remember anything...and she’s acting strange...she said ‘Willow’s’ name,” Stella said in a rushed whisper.
The man’s eyes seem to fill with pain and the same fear that the other man, Tim, had had. “That might be a good thing,” he said, looking at me.
The door opened again, and the man that had watched us with Robert walked in. The older man looked at Stella and said, “The laundry is in the back, along with the leftover rations.”
Stella’s fear was immediate. I followed her in the backroom, where there was a pile of black clothes on the table. She started to fold them and put them in a large black sack; her hands were shaking, and she kept looking at the door. I felt the good man walk in our direction. “What do you mean, ‘acting strange?’” he said in a whisper.
“She’s hearing voices in her head, and she can tell if someone is lying. I don’t even know what else.”
The man walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a jar, then dumped a handful of pills in his hand, walked over to Stella, and put them in her pocket. “That will make the voices go away. I don’t know what to tell you about the other. Head injuries are hard to predict; this may be temporary - or even permanent,” he said, searching Stella’s face for understanding.
Stella closed her eyes and nodded. They both felt sorry for me and were very afraid of something. As Stella walked out of the room toward the front, I picked up the tray that had bread and milk on it and followed her. The man that I could not feel was still in the front of the store, and he stared at me intently - as if he were trying to see inside of me somehow. He held his hand up to stop Stella. “All tasks are suspended due to the storm. You girls need to make your way to the shelter to be counted,” he said in a domineering voice.
Stella turned and placed the laundry on the counter, and I did the same with the food, the man was watching my every step. We made our way to the door, then Stella stepped out and I heard, “Evelyn,” from a man’s voice. At first, I didn’t recognize the word as my name - but Stella’s fear quickly reminded me that it was. I turned and saw the man right behind me, towering over me.
“How are you feeling? It looks as if the storm was harsh on you,” he said.
“I’m well,” I answered.
The man stared at me, then tilted his head and said, “Tell your parents I said ‘hello’ for me.”
I nodded. “I will,” I answered.
The man smiled, but I could feel absolute horror coming from the doctor and Stella.
“Move along, then,” he finally said.
Stella wrapped her arm around mine and walked swiftly. I knew I’d done it again; it didn’t matter if I played along or kept silent, I always seemed to do something wrong. “Stella,” I whispered, “I can feel you...if you don’t want me to do something, you need to give me a hint through your emotion.”
Stella looked at me. “Is he following us?” she whispered.
“I don’t know...he’s one of the ones I can’t feel.”
Stella looked at me, and I felt her fear rise. “Just wait until we’re alone,” she said. I nodded and followed her quietly.
We walked with an i
mmense amount of people down the street. Though the streets were full, it was silent. Two blocks later, we reached a large gray building five stories high and stood in a long line, waiting for our turn to enter. Stella looked at me repeatedly; her emotions were out of control, and I just wanted to remember anything. Looking around, I could see why I wanted to forget: they were all so sad, lost.
An older woman trying to carry her and all of her children’s belongings called Stella away from me. “Listen, stay here and don’t say anything; all you have to do is move up in the line. Do you understand?” Stella asked me.
As the woman in front of us slowly turned to look at me, I nodded and swallowed hard. I then watched Stella walk away, looking back in my direction; she was so worried about me. Stella and the woman gathered all their belongings and walked to the back of the line. I focused on her emotion, tracking her through the crowd; so far, she was my only ally in this horrible place.
A moment later, I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to see the same man that I could not feel standing next to me, smiling with his dark eyes. I felt my insides drop, nauseous not just from the pain, but from the horror I felt from the ones around me. The man guided me across the street, away from the line, then pulled me through one of the openings between the buildings. It was black and smelled bad, and the air was so damp, it felt like it was raining. My heart raced, and I wished for death, sure he was going to hurt me in some way.
As he pushed my frail shoulders against the wet wall, I closed my eyes hard - wanting whatever he was going to do to be over. I felt his hand on my head and heard him smile. “Has this wound taken your memory from you?” he said in a sharp voice.
I quickly shook my head no.
“Ahh, so you remember that you are my toy,” he said, pulling my coat open.
As I felt his hands on my waist, tears streamed down my face, and I began to tremble.
“Now, now...you have done this before. There is no need to act so innocent,” he said, moving his hands all around me. I held my breath and tried to let my mind take me anywhere but here.
“Evelyn,” I heard a woman’s voice say, and the man holding me stepped back swiftly. I looked to the woman. I couldn’t feel her either; though, her face was cold and stern, it was clear she wasn’t happy with what she saw. “Damien, what are you doing here with Evelyn?” she said harshly.
“Just chatting,” Damien said, chuckling.
“Come,” the woman said, reaching her arm out for me.
I walked to her side, not caring that she could be just as bad as Damien. She pulled me into the light of the gray sky, and Damien walked out behind us, then looked at me, winked, and walked toward the shelter.
“Let me look at you,” the woman said, standing on her toes to see my head. “Getting knocked on the head is no excuse for putting yourself in a situation like that,” she said. I nodded.
“Where is your sister?” she asked me. I looked to the line, and I could see Stella walking to where I was supposed to be standing. “Have you seen a doctor?” the woman asked.
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to answer that question. A sharp, knife-like pain cut through my stomach, making me gasp. As I leaned forward, my hands rested on the woman’s shoulders as I waited for the pain to go away. She slowly unclenched my hands. “I suppose there is a point when even doctors are no help,” she said, reaching into her coat and pulling out two large white pills. “These will help with the pain. If you are alive, you must function,” she said in a cold tone.
I took the pills and swallowed them whole, then she led me back to the line. When Stella saw us approaching, her fear raised beyond what I’d felt from her before. “Stella, if you weren’t such a diligent worker, I would have long ago lost patience with this matter,” the woman said sternly to her.
Stella nodded and bowed her head, then reached for my hand. The woman looked at me once more before she walked away, and the others in the line looked away as she walked by. Stella didn’t say a word; she just looped her arm through mine and stared forward. The pills had begun to dull the pain in my stomach, but my head still throbbed through a burning pain.
When we reached the door, Damien was standing next to the woman who had saved me. He watched us closely as the woman recorded our names, then handed each of us a bag and assigned us a room. Stella and I walked up three flights of cement stairs and down a narrow hallway that had an awful, sour body order smell. I covered my mouth, trying not to breathe it in, but Stella must have been used to the horrible odor; she never seemed to falter. At the end of the hallway on the right, we found the room we were assigned. Stella opened the door; inside, it was dark, and there were two small cots and a table with candles on it and a small window near the top of the wall. I fell onto one of the beds. My head was pounding, and my stomach hurt like it was tied in knots.
Chapter Twelve
After Stella unpacked the bags that we had with us, she walked over and sat on the bed on which I was laying. “Evee...sit up...you need to take your medicine. I’m sure you’re in pain,” she said in an exhausted tone. I sat up slowly, and she handed me four pills. “I don’t have any water. You’re just going to have to swallow them,” she instructed.
“What are they for?” I asked, wanting to know what was causing the pain in my stomach. She leaned forward and covered her face with her hands; she was so sad.
“Listen...I’m sorry I’m making you sad. If I could remember, I would...I just can’t,” I said slowly in a defeated tone.
Stella looked up at me and said, “These are for the tumors.”
“Tumors?” I muttered.
Stella started to cry. “They...um...they started in your stomach, and now...now they’re everywhere...you’re dying.” Her voice was weak and overwhelmed.
I heard her words, but I just couldn’t comprehend them. A shooting pain shot through my stomach, and I bent over, trying to breathe.
“Take the pills, Evee.”
“What’s the point if I’m dying?” I asked, angry at my disposition. I started to cry.
“It will stop the pain. Please don’t make me watch you in pain – it hurts me,” she said, wrapping her arm around me.
I could feel her hurting. I reached for the pills and swallowed them one by one. The chalk from them made me gag.
“You have to keep them down,” she whispered.
I nodded, then lay down on the bed and stared at the gray cement ceiling. “Where are our parents?” I asked, remembering that Damien had asked me to tell them ‘Hello.’ Stella’s grief grew, and I knew then why she was scared when I told him I would.
“They were executed...by Damien. And we will be lucky if we see the dawn.”
“What?” I said in a panic; I didn’t feel I’d made a mistake that big - not yet, anyway.
“Our parents were executed because priest believed that they were demented...if you act different, then they think you’re demented - and now I’m sure they think the same about you.”
“What do you mean, ‘demented?’” I asked, bewildered.
Stella sighed and looked at me. “Listen...we’re all supposed to act the same, do the same...our parents tried to rally others to stand up to the Blakeshires - mostly underground - but someone told the priest what they were doing, and they were executed.”
“When?”
“Twelve years ago, when you were fourteen and I was twelve. You took care of me. Not many people even remember them. Those who do are the ones that help us, like Dr. Parker, who gave us the medicine. And when your time here is over, I’ll be all alone here. You have to hold on, Evee...I’m not ready to be alone,” Stella said in a cracking voice. “Did you see Willow in the storm?” she asked, peeking with hope.
“I heard her name – who is she?” I asked, remembering the touch on my lips and wanting that voice to come back.
Stella lay back next to me. “She is the one who is supposed to save us all from this darkness,” she said, looking into the distance.
“Have you seen her?” I asked
“No...they say she has already come, though. The Blakeshire palace is in the city of Delen, on the other side of the world. We heard rumors that she has already faced Donalt, our ruler.”
“Did she win?” I asked, completely captivated by this story.
“We heard that there is now a willow tree with beautiful blossoms that sits in the center court. Donalt has no choice but to see its color every time he speaks to the masses.”
“Would you not have seen her there with me?” I asked.
Stella moved her head slowly from side to side. “They say she moves through you, giving you the strength to find what you’ve forgotten,” she said in a whisper.
“Well, maybe it had the reverse effect on me; I can’t remember anything,” I said, replaying the storm in my head. I only remembered seeing Stella and the agonizing pain.
Stella’s grief grew; it was as if I’d already died. I felt like I’d taken myself away from her prematurely.
I reached for her hand. “Have I always been able to feel people?” I asked.
“No, that’s a new development.”
“And seeing the truth?”
“That’s new, too...listen, if we make it past the morning, you’ve got keep that to yourself,” Stella warned.
“Is it bad?” I asked, looking for clarification.
“It’s just different - and we can’t be different,” she whispered. “I wish I could tell you that we were born in a beautiful world, peaceful and happy, but we don’t have the luck of others,” she said, gazing into thin air.
